Page 38 of My Blood Is Yours

Evandriel’s brows lift as he sighs, shaking his head. “I have no idea. She used it for years to drain her power. It’s why there’s so much magic emanating from it.”

Elowen grips the top tight. “I could use it to find her…”

Evandriel nods. “I would imagine so. Yes.”

I don’t have the heart to shatter her hope by demanding we use it to find my brother.

Guilt lines her features as she stares up at me. “I just… Until you, she was all I ever had. She suffered so much when she was alive. Even if I can’t speak to her, I just want to know she’s found her peace.”

The singular grain of hope I have of finding my brother slips through my fingers like sand. Despite having known Elowen for all of a few days, I’m woe to forbid her anything.

“How do we use it?”

Evandriel straightens, brows pinching. “Thatis something I don’t have an answer for.”

ELOWEN

“Perhaps we should ask your mate.” I blurt the suggestion with little thought, purely out of desperation. Evandriel looks down at me as if I’ve just asked him to lick an unwashed asshole. Sariel even looks mildly surprised by it. “What? Who else are we gonna ask? It’s not like we know anyone else here.”

Evandriel scowls. “We don’tknowher either. She could be a scoundrel for all we know.”

My eyes drift to where Evandriel’ssoulbondlingers on the steps of what appears to be a town square—an open, park-like area where sculptures, elaborate flower beds, and sunbathing chairs are peppered about.

I can’t help but snort. “Scoundrel? She hardly looks it.”

Sariel follows my gaze, and Evandriel turns to do the same—just as she collides with a small group of teenagers, each of them issuing apologies.

“I mean, her clothing is quite obviously finely tailored and professional. She looks like she could be a politician even…”

My words drift as, the moment the teenagers’ backs are turned, the female dips her hands into each of their pockets.The move is so smooth, so fast—practised—that you’d have to be intensely focused on her to notice.

Evandriel’s gaze slowly rotates back towards mine, his brows perched in an expression that is nothing short of smug.

“You know, I think you’re right. Shedoeslook like a politician. Sticking her hands into other people’s pockets, a wolf dressed in finely tailored sheep’s clothing. My, my… your powers of perception areastounding,Elowen.”

My lips pucker as I chew my cheek to keep from laughing, while Evandriel continues looking more and more distressed with each passing word.

“Well, maybe she’s desperate?—”

Evandriel’s eyes search mine, as though seeing me for the first time. “Desperate enough to steal fromchildren?”

My eyes roll as I give him a dramatic scoff. “Why, they’re hardlychildren.They’re teenagers! And silver-spooned ones at that. Surely, whatever she’s just lifted from them will be swiftly replaced bymummy or daddy.”

Evandriel’s jaw drops. “Who are you?”

With a shrug, I begin picking at an errant thread on the sleeve of my servant’s dress. “Just someone who knows what it’s like to have to steal in order to survive.”

Evandriel’s expression softens immediately. He clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. From the look on his face, he remembers—just as well I do—the state my mother and I were in before she’d been hired as a maid. Though, I can’t be entirely sure. I was so young that I can only vaguely remember that it was approximately around that time I’d met Evandriel for the first time.

“The female doesn’t have a hair out of place. I’ve seen poverty before. Experienced it. Have lived among it for the last century,” Evandriel’s eyes narrow at mine, “And you know just as well as I do—while poverty can strike anyone, it eventually wears us alldown to the same brittle shade of tattered clothing, hole-y shoes, and haunted eyes. Andthatfemale is not it.”

I give a noncommittal grunt. Despite the veracity of his words, I also know that most people won’t risk their necks unless they have to. There’s something driving her to steal. And for some reason, I’m curious to know what it is. Evandriel continues rambling as if he can somehow convince himself that sheisn’thissoulbound.Meanwhile, I continue to watch her, enraptured, as she pickpockets her way through the park with fingers as light as any feather.

“… In any case, she’s hardly the ideal person to seek help from. Unless we don’t mind being robbed of anything that isn’t physically anchored to our bodies. And even then, I wouldn’t be so sure. She’d probably happily relieve us of our internal organs for the right price.”

A bark of laughter escapes me. “You’re one to talk.”

Evandriel’s eyes narrow. “They werebadpeople.”

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